The Captain's Quarter's
by oh-you-pretty-things
Summary: POST AWE. SMUT.  Basically, a lovely power struggle between Captain Turner and the Pirate King. Original Challenge from Smithy: Perhaps you could give us one about the passionate roleplaying by Captain and Mrs. Captain Turner.


**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters or dialogue associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.**

_AN: This is an answer to the M-rated Roleplay challenge put forth by Smithy and posted on HTR by Latebloomer04. It is, essentially,mildly kinky smut. The end. If you're looking for plot, you've come to the wrong place. Shout out to the FF ladies...more fodder for the gutter. ;)_

The door creaked open with a groan, revealing a man, slightly disheveled, bandana on his head to keep the sweat from his eyes, sitting on a bed. He looked up tentatively.

"Well? Have you reviewed your options?" Her voice was strong and spoke volumes into her character – she was independent and fiery, no man could tell her what to do. And, yet, there was a note of long forgotten feminine sweetness. It reminded him of porcelain tea cups and lovely, lacy bonnets. His eyes studied her face, drinking in the details. Her head had not seen a bonnet, in oh, ten or so years – her skin was as sun-browned as her hair was sun-lightened. It was becoming, very becoming.

At length, the man smirked confidently and stood from the bed. "I have."

"And?"

"And," he replied, his voice amused at best, "the Captain of the Flying Dutchman submits to no one."

A flash of annoyance flared across her pretty features. She entered the room and closed the door behind her in one fluid motion, without even turning her back to him. She stalked towards him slowly, red hot determination blazing in her eyes.

"Let me remind you," she said crisply, enunciating every word as she took a step. The Captain of the Flying Dutchman raised his chin in defiance. "That I am known as the King of the Brethren Court."

Now she was directly before him, glaring undeniably with an intense emotion. Annoyance? Anger? Attraction? Or, better still, arousal? He looked down at her and smirked again.

"And, let me remind you, _Your Majesty_," he retorted in a mocking tone, "that the Dutchman sails as its captain commands, with or without the consent of the Brethren Court."

The pretty Pirate King narrowed her eyes and raised an eyebrow. Whatever the emotion was, it had just become more intense. He wondered if it was in fact more than one emotion. Perhaps it was all four options mingled together in an appealing mesh. She inhaled deeply and looked away and he accepted this as a sort of defeat. He smiled smugly until she turned back to him suddenly.

"You do realize that I have legions of pirates at my command?"

He considered this briefly. "You do realize that I can cross over to the next world without warning?"

She said nothing, and so he walked towards the bureau, his hands finding a necklace which he toyed with.

"Will you release me? Clearly you've shown that you have no hold over me," he said, tangling the thin, gold chain around his fingers. He looked up at her and she frowned markedly.

"No!" she said through gritted teeth. My, my how she hated to lose. He turned his head and regarded her for a moment, before approaching the pirate king slowly and carefully.

"Why not?"

"You…you have something of mine," she said, straightening her shoulders in an attempt to make up for her faltering voice. He cocked his head, amused.

"Oh? What's that?"

She looked about frantically and caught sight of the chain, still tangled about his fingers. She pointed, exuberant with her discovery. "My necklace."

The captain raised his hand and wiggled his fingers in thought. "Surely the rich and powerful Pirate King can spare this simple chain."

"I cannot." She took a step towards him, looking up at him with…contempt? Courage? Captivation? "Thief," she hissed.

His face contorted into something incredulous at her accusation. "Pretty words coming from a woman who stole something of mine."

He turned his back to her, facing the wall.

"What? What did I steal?" he voice indignant. She had never stolen from him in all her life! Ludicrous!

"My heart," he said softly. There was something in his voice that reminded her of a blacksmith who'd proclaimed his love for her many years ago. But, the man before her was no blacksmith, he was a pirate through and through.

"You gave it freely!"

"Oh no," he replied. "You took it before I had a chance to even realize who you were. _What_ you were."

She didn't like his tone. "And what am I?"

At this he smiled almost sinisterly. He walked towards her slowly, an amused grin on his face, as she backed up until she was against the door.

"You are a sneaky, conniving, dirty, double-crossing pirate."

"Then what does that make you?"

The captain smiled again. "A victim."

The pirate king snorted derisively, letting her guard down momentarily, but a moment's time in the world of pirates was more than enough. She never even noticed the little dagger he'd pocketed, never even realized it when he brought it up to her throat. Her eyes widened with shock. How had he done that? A part of her that she had suppressed for a long time wanted to simply stomp her feet and shout 'no fair!', but she didn't.

"Now what?" she asked breathlessly.

He ran his free hand, the one entangled with the necklace, across his mouth in thought, eyeing her predatorily. Without warning, he caught her around the waist and pulled her to him roughly.

"That depends, your majesty."

"On what? Pray tell," she replied, her voice a mere whisper. Her captor smirked once again.

"On how badly you want this necklace back."

Her lips curled up amusedly at this. "And, if I don't want it back?"

He was taken back a bit by this. "Then I suppose it's a matter of how badly I want," he eyes skimmed down her front, "that shirt. Do you want this necklace back?"

Again, he had moved too quickly for her. It was no longer tangled around his fingers, and he had deftly, in her moment of weakness, slid it over his head. She sneered in irritation.

"It's mine!" she hissed.

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Not anymore. I believe it is, in fact, mine."

Fire burned in her eyes and he knew that she was mere minutes away from some sort of outburst. He felt it was time to remind her that the dagger was still there; he pressed it against her throat and she stiffened. What was that in her eyes? Disbelief? Daring? Desire?

"What are you going to do?" she asked, a hint of boldness in her voice. The captain said nothing, nothing at all. In fact, the only sound that she could hear was her own labored breathing and the tearing of her shirt at the point of the dagger as he pulled it downwards at a tortuously slow pace. The pirate king shivered in anticipation. She closed her eyes and reveled in the heat he emitted as he leaned in to kiss her neck, just below her ear. She bit her lip as her entire body was overtaken by tingles, and then shook her head when she remembered that this was war. Her eyes flew open and she glared at him, but he merely returned the look with one of gentle amusement. Her necklace glittered against the tanned V of skin peeking out of the throat of his shirt.

Smiling seductively, she tilted her face towards his, noting that his hands were now inside the remains of her shirt, sliding up her back. She made to kiss him, sliding her palms up the front of his shirt, applying pressure against his already hardened nipples. He clenched his jaw as she continued her upward assault. She smiled and pulled back a bit when she reached his collar. His eyes, darkened with lust, watched her curiously, wondering what she was playing at. His wondering ceased and she abruptly tore the front of his shirt in two.

Eyebrows raised, the captain looked down at himself. "Well."

The pirate king smirked, most pleased with herself. That is, until her esteemed opponent caught what was left of her shirt at the shoulders and tugged down. He laughed at her fully as she was only just realizing that her cuffs were still tightly fastened. In essence, he had pinned her hands behind her back effectively. As she struggled against her bonds, he took the opportunity to pull her close to him and finally kiss her mouth.

The effect of the touch of his hot skin against her cool, exposed flesh was electric. His mouth against hers was so insistent that she ceased all struggles just to fully appreciate his tongue tangling with her own. She could feel her heartbeat speeding up and realized that if she didn't do something fast, she would lose. She pulled back abruptly, but this didn't seem to faze the captain. He just watched her with interest, feeling out her next move. When all she did was glare at him, her lips pressed together in a thin line, he grinned smugly and shrugged off his torn shirt, taking care to loosen the cuffs of his sleeves slowly. He dropped his shirt on the floor nonchalantly, tilting his head in a cocky manner. The pirate king glowered at him; her eyes were instantly drawn to the cruel scar across his tanned chest. Her face fell in remembrance of a time when she thought she'd lost the most important part of her life… While she was reminiscing, he backed up until his knees hit the bed and sat down, watching her expectantly. If she had any tricks now would be the time.

Her face twitched with determination and she stalked towards him, wasting no time in straddling him. It wasn't until his hands came up around her waist that she remembered she was at a disadvantage. As his lips grazed a nipple and her head fell back, she realized that she was at a _serious_ disadvantage. She napped back to reality and looked down at him.

"Look at me," she hissed through gritted teeth. Slowly, lazily he lifted his eyes to meet hers. Her jaw was set and she looked down at him with hooded eyes. She should have been happy to be looking _down_ on him. It should have brought her some comfort, but then his hands slid down her bare back and cupped her bottom firmly. She pouted. This was not going her way at all. She decided to make it her way by leaning in and kissing him hard, but all she really accomplished was him rolling her beneath him. He broke the kiss and propped himself up on one elbow.

"Are you uncomfortable?" he asked, unexpectedly looking concerned.

The pirate king smiled slightly, coyly. "I would be more comfortable if I could use my hands again."

The captain just chuckled, starting out low and quiet until he was actually laughing. He stopped and looked at her. "That's not going to happen. Did you honestly expect me to just," he paused to look at her incredulously, "_let you go?_"

The pirate king merely scowled once more.

"But, I could try to make you more comfortable."

"How, you tyrannical captor?"

He rolled off of her and crawled behind her back. "Sit up."

When she did, he caught her shirt with his knee, jerking her shoulders back. "Ow!" she hissed. The pressure seemed to ease and she felt his lips upon her neck, lightly grazing along her shoulder.

"My apologies, your majesty."

She could feel him gently undoing the button on her sleeve and freeing her trapped hand. Then, she heard the sound of fabric tearing again and her closed eyes flew open.

"Wi-?"

"Shh," he hissed irritably. All of the sudden she felt the warm fabric being tied around her wrist again.

"Wha-?" she started again, trying to glance over her shoulder. Instead she found herself being kissed roughly while being laid down gently. The contrast in motions made her head a little fuzzy and she hardly noticed that her arm had been stretched out above her head and secured to the bedpost. It wasn't until he was working on the other hand, which he left secured in its cuff, that she broke the kiss. But, by then, it was too late. She pulled at the binding with her arms only to find that she was trapped on the bed.

Slowly, leisurely even, the captain situated himself above her, pinning her legs as well. Again, his hand was at his face in serious contemplation. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Now what should I do with you?"

The pirate king scowled and struggled again.

"That won't do," he said chidingly. He leaned over, resting his weight on his elbows, but still keeping her legs pinned beneath him. His face was mere millimeters above hers. He studied her with amused interest. "Shall I torture you, I wonder?"

"You wouldn't dare," she said quietly. He raised an eyebrow and smiled roguishly.

"Oh? Wouldn't I?"

With that, he moved his face from hers, trailing down her neck, the light touch of the ends of his hair tickling against her skin. His mouth was close enough to touch her, but he didn't – not even once. The sensation of his hot, moist breath against her skin sending chills down her spine. He was so deliciously close, and yet refused to actually touch her with his mouth. It wasn't until he hovered above a breast that she truly considered it torture. He was driving her mad with his breath, hot and damp on the exhale and shockingly, _maddeningly_ cool with his inhalation.

Involuntarily, she arched her back towards his mouth, writhing madly towards his touch. She could feel him laugh against her and couldn't help herself from laughing as well. The captain of the Flying Dutchman was a cruel, cruel man…but, cruel is all a matter of perspective. He lifted his head, ceasing the torture and, by doing so, adding a new torture to the mix. Again he gave her a scolding look. Then, he looked behind him and turned back to her.

"I'm afraid I'm not content with having just your shirt now, seeing as it is…no longer a shirt," he paused to smirk, "I'm going to have to take your pants."

"You're going to try," she breathed.

"And I'm going to succeed."

She struggled against him, but he kept her pinned readily as he nimbly unfastened her pants.

"You should stay still, your majesty, or else I'll have to cut your pants," he paused and looked up at her, something devilishly dangerous in his eyes, "Then what will I take from you?"

"You still have my necklace," she reminded him between her struggles.

"You mean _my_ necklace? Well, I've already taken that."

Something flashed through her bright eyes. "Parlay!"

He paused for a moment. "What?"

"I invoke the right of parlay!" The captain of the Dutchman snorted and returned to his task.

"The code doesn't apply to me."

She snarled at him, which made him laugh. Eventually, with her constant struggling, he gave up and sighed. "Well, it looks like I'm going to have to cut these off since you won't cooperate," he said resignedly. He produced the dagger and she stopped moving simply for fear of being cut. She was completely at his mercy and very displeased about the whole situation. She wasn't used to not getting her way. Her pants were now reduced to little more than a useless scrap of fabric and she was completely naked beneath him. Finally, after much internal struggle, she decided to let loose the buried side of her personality.

"It's not fair!" she whined. The captain merely raised his eyebrows at her little outburst.

"Life isn't fair. Sometimes, neither is death."

She bit her lip in penance for her personal ungratefulness. What right had she to spout about what was and wasn't fair? None in comparison to the man before her.

"What do you want from me?" she asked quietly.

"What do you think I want?"

She was silent, both knowing and not knowing what he wanted. He looked at her again, his face suddenly serious for the first time. He ran his hands down the sides of her body, savouring each curve and the way she tensed her muscles under his touch. He bent his head down and deposited kisses along her collarbone. As he moved down her chest, he whispered, "I want retribution."

His mouth found her breast and he sucked and licked gently before catching her nipple in his teeth. When he let her go, squirming as she was beneath him, he spoke again. "I want compensation."

He continued trailing kisses down her belly, his hands resting firmly on her hips. "I want the memories I don't have."

He eased off her legs, which were now rendered useless for other reasons as he continued southward with his kisses. He parted her legs gently with his hands and planted tiny, soft kisses on the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs. She whimpered, eyes closed and biting her lip to keep from releasing a louder sound. "I want ten years," he said softly into her knee, "Ten years of touches and kisses. Ten years of love and laughter."

He crawled back up to her so that his face hovered above hers once again. He waited until she was focused on him entirely and smiled faintly. Again she saw the warm brown eyes of the blacksmith. "I want you," he said simply.

He kissed her, long and deep, and they were drowning in each other. Drowning and falling, falling in love again. His hand slid down her side and brushed against the top of her thigh before finding _that_ place, before massaging tight circles _there_. She moaned into his mouth and he gently slid one finger, then two, inside her. She arched into him, her chest flush against his. Breaking the kiss, but not stopping the constant rhythm of his hand, he asked her a question.

"Can I trust you?"

"What?" she hissed irritably.

"If I untie your wrists, can I trust you?"

It was her turn to smirk. "Maybe."

"Not likely. But, it's a risk I'm willing to take."

He kissed her again, and withdrew his hand. She moaned in protest, but he needed both his hands to untie the knots he'd formed. Releasing her wrists gently, he laid her hands on the bed, still above her head. He held them there loosely for a moment, kissing her with mad abandon. Then his hands were sliding down her body again and her hands were at the fastenings of his pants, frantically fumbling with unbridled need. She pushed them over his hips; he kicked them off the rest of the way.

"Oh mighty Pirate King," he whispered breathily in her ear, "what is it that you want most?"

She growled in frustration as his hand was back in place. "You. Inside me."

"Your wish is my command."

And then he _was_ inside her, moving with a slow, steady rhythm until he could feel her adjust. Her legs tightened around his waist and he increased the pace, feeding off of her tiny gasps for breath. Her nails dug into his back as she reached a peak. She made an unintelligible noise in his ear, halfway between a groan and a scream, and dragged her nails down his spine. He slowed again for her to recuperate and was caught infinitely off-guard when she rolled them over, after all the Pirate King was used to being on top.

His hands flew to her hips and she bucked and rocked madly, just trying to get to that necessary end point. It was him now who groaned through gritted teeth as she dragged her nails lightly across his chest before bending over to suck at _his _nipples. All's fair in love and war, although she was never quite sure which of the two this was…

She started to wonder if she would ever need anything more than this, _right now_. In fact, neither of them could think past this moment because, despite the fact that there were obviously more important things in life before and after this moment, it seemed that _nothing_ could possibly be more important than reaching that little cloud in heaven. And, as they were just about to reach that cloud, just at that very point of pleasure, he sat up and caught her in a tight embrace. They sat that way for an eternity, breathing heavily into each other's skin and sweating and just clinging to one another.

Eventually they collapsed on the bed, still clinging to one another. She drew little circles on his chest with her finger, catching the gold chain that was still around his neck.

"Will, can I have my necklace back?"

He grinned. "No. It's mine, remember?"

"Will. It has a little heart dangling from it."

"So?"

She just rolled her eyes and pressed her palm flat against his chest, feeling the rippled skin of the scar beneath her fingers. She also felt the steady beat of his heart pumping in his chest. It gave her comfort; it solidified that he was here with her now, that they could play these little games.

"You can have it," she said suddenly.

Will looked at her curiously. "Pardon?"

"You can have it for ten years."

Will peered at her again. "Elizabeth?"

She looked up with wide eyes. "It's my heart," she said, smiling, "In a sense. So, you can keep it safe for ten years."

"But, not forever?"

"It's just a game," she said softly, wrapping her arms around him, "Just a symbol. You've had my actual heart since the day you washed up into my life."

She felt him kiss her forehead and smile. "I love you," he said softly.

"I love you, too."

Elizabeth felt something poking into her back and reached back to find a piece of her shirt. She held it up to Will who looked at it sheepishly.

"Sorry about your shirt."

"Are you really?"

He smirked. "No, not really."

Elizabeth cocked her head and smiled cheekily. She stared at the piece of fabric in her hand and then back at Will. She ran her fingers up his arm and caught his wrist, tying it to the bedpost.

"You will be."

"I rather doubt it."


End file.
